A Sorta Fairytale
by TalulaJones
Summary: Bonnie Bennett discovers the cure for vampirism.
1. Knots

A Sorta Fairytale

Rain.

For five days straight, ominous dark clouds, swelled and wrung-out over Mystic falls, hiding the Summer-time sun and soaking the residents. The rain came in sprinkles, it came in sheets, it came in torrents, the only reprieve the small town had from the rain was when the Moon was out.

Bonnie cradled a portable house phone between her shoulder and ear as she searched through her former bedroom at her Father's house, opening up packed boxes and rifling through their contents while she listened to Caroline whine about the rain.

"If this continues it's going to ruin the Lockwood Ball," Caroline said as Bonnie pulled out the battered cardboard box marked _'Girl Scouts – Troop Mystic'_ hidden behind folded sweaters on the top shelf of her closet. The box wobbled as if the contents were trying to free themselves from the flimsy container, she held it tightly against her chest and folded her legs under her and placed the box on the carpet.

Rain beat against the soggy ground, splashing into the puddle outside her bedroom window and she listened to the rapid pitter patter sound each droplet made, welcoming the storm. The recent outpour of rain showers matched her mood, quiet and somber, and having nature mirror her temperament was a relief, like it understood her, which was the opposite of how she felt when the sun was out, when the hot sun beamed on her, which it had been for most of the summer, she felt oppressed, like it demanded for her to smile and go out and be shiny, like it was shaking its head at her for wanting to stay home and ward off visitors by stating she was busy studying and working on new spells.

"Are you listening to me?" Caroline asked.

Bonnie sighed, "The weather forecast says it's not going to rain on Saturday, Care," Bonnie said, "But if it does happen to rain on the day of the party then that's what umbrellas and rain coats are for." Her hands dusted off items she retrieved from the box: an old handbook that had her name written in big broad-spaced letters in marker on the glossy cover, her green scarf littered with geometric shaped badges, and keepsakes from camping trips and outings. She rummaged through the items until she pulled out the thick jute rope coiled at the bottom. She would dye the rope red when she was at her home before tomorrow night's full moon. When she discovered she could harness the moon's power with knot magic, she was all set to head to the local hardware store to purchase nine feet of rope but remembered she had rope at her father's house and this particular rope held history, a piece of her energy, and would be a perfect talisman.

"Send me a picture of your gown, I want to make sure I don't wear something similar," Caroline said with a seriousness that made Bonnie snort, she could picture Caroline with her hand on her hip and an arched brow, scrutinizing her wardrobe.

"I haven't picked out one yet, I'm kind of not in the party mood, but I know you'll disown me if I don't show up so I'll be sure to find something suitable."

"Not suitable, something fabulous."

"Fabulous is your department," Bonnie said while tying the rope into a square knot. She smiled proudly at the intertwined rope. She hadn't forgot her scout training.

"We can go dress hunting tomorrow and I can pick out your outfit, "She squealed in Bonnie's ear like it was the greatest idea ever.

"It'll have to be in the morning, I'm going to be busy for the rest of the day," Bonnie informed, thinking of all the preparation she would have to accomplish before tomorrow's nightfall.

The rain slowed to a trickle and Bonnie frowned.

"Meet me at the mall promptly at nine am, missy," Caroline instructed and said, "Thank goodness this rain has died down, I need for the sun to be out if I have to go to the Salvatore's."

Bonnie's heartbeat quickened, "Why are you going over there?"

"For Elena," She stated like it was obvious, "She and Stefan are back from Toronto, you should come with me, she'll be so happy to see you and…"

"I'll see her at the party," Bonnie said before Caroline finished.

"Okay," Caroline said, her voice telling she wasn't going to pry for the reason for Bonnie's quick no, "We've all had a hard year you know, but I hope we can put everything behind us this weekend and be those girls we used to be."

Bonnie hastily untied the knot, holding the ends in each hand and bent the rope into a bowline. And she realized she shouldn't have been so surprised she still remembered how to form knots. She was proficient at tying up loose ends, she knows now just like she knew when she was a young scout that without a solid knot the rope could easily snap.

"Me too, Caroline," She said sincerely before hanging up on her childhood friend.

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This will be a multi-chaptered fic. Follow my writing at "The Scribe MC" on tumblr.

Thanks for reading


	2. Damon

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The soft ground gave way under her and mud squished out over her shoes, as she left Converse logo imprints on the earth with her each step. She would have to throw her sneakers in the washer when she got home, but that was a small sacrifice to be able to enjoy walking at twilight through the woods of her ancestors, on the way to her Grandmother's house which had now become her sole home.

Crepuscular light shimmered through the throng of trees, tinting the forest floor hues of pink and purple. She stuffed her hands in to her jean short pockets, inhaling dewy grass and crisp leaves, and wordlessly conversed with the spirits.

She had stuck around her Dad's after she found the rope. She vacuumed the staircase, dusted the living room and cooked chicken enchiladas for dinner. And it was worth it to have him come home, surprised and happy to see his only daughter making his empty house feel like a home. Their relationship had improved since she no longer lived under the same roof as him, he actually scheduled time with her and he listened when she spoke, not just waiting for his turn to lecture. She was grateful for the effort.

After dinner and a game of cards, he had asked her where was her car, and when she said she was going to cut through the woods, he protested and said he would drive her, but she pulled on her sneakers with a smile and told him there were ju-ju things she had to take care of out in the woods and that zipped him up.

Sheila's spirit was present in the woods that evening, gushing in her ear that she was so very proud of her, and there was Lydia, Sheila's mother, who whispered to Bonnie's soul that she was the one the ancestors had been waiting for, she was their glory. _'Behold the witch'_, they told the forest, and the life of the woods took notice of the nineteen year old woman in cut-off shorts, rolled up to the rounded mounds of her thighs. The one in high-top grey converse and the thin black, racer-back tank that clung to her butterscotch skin with a thin sheen of sweat. The one who greeted the woods with the bounce of her ponytail of curls, and hid from the glow of the dimming sun which made her ever-changing irises resemble pure gold.

It was recently that Bonnie became aware that she might be attractive. Growing up sandwiched between Elena and Caroline, she had come to believe she was just the loyal friend of the pretty girls, the girl who guys befriended to get in the graces of her more prettier and popular friends. She didn't mind it, she admired and loved her girlfriends, plus, she always thought she had more important business to attend to then high school boys, like saving the town.

But Bonnie was wrong, and completely oblivious to the awkward young men who were smitten with the serious girl but didn't know how to get her to laugh, so they moved on to the brunette and blonde, and that obliviousness is still there, because although she felt the rush of magic coursing through her veins, she is unaware that any supernatural being within an half a mile radius ears perked at the soft humming under her skin, enticing and alerting them of the powerful force that is near.

She trekked deeper into the woods and deeper into her thoughts, placing her slender hands on tree trunks to brace herself as she walked over fallen forest debris, and the trees swayed and whistled, although there was no breeze, and Bonnie stopped abruptly. Tiny bumps prickled her skin and her heartbeat accelerated to a Congo drum. She balled her hands into a fist where the magic collected into her fingertips.

She jerked her head from side to side, and huffed more for show, to let the creature know she wasn't scared and continued her hike.

The trees bent and swayed again, and she stopped so short in her gait that she almost tripped, "Come out now and I promise you a speedy death," She yelled.

It was her duty to keep nature's balance, to ensure life's cycle, if the thing that showed itself was anything other than a part of that balance, she would kill it.

Without a second thought.

She counted to ten and glanced up at the sky above and the last illumination of sunlight, dying out and how it turned the green trees to black. She could feel the creature drawing near, ready to attack, and she turned her back quickly, prepared to send a vampire flying to land on a tree branch through its heart, but there was nothing, just leaves settling from the whir of manufactured wind and the caw of a black bird.

And she spun on her heels and came face to face with Damon Salvatore.

A swift intake of air was sucked in through her throat and it made a small stifled shriek while she involuntarily clutched at her throat.

"Boo," He whispered seductively, closing in on her personal space and smirking. He palmed the side of her neck and she slapped his hand away, "I almost killed you," She said, narrowing her eyes and ducking from under his embrace.

He laughed, his blue eyes darkened to the deepest depth of an ocean from the lack of sunlight, "You were too scared to kill me."

"I was not scared."

He strolled behind her, picked a yellow wildflower, rubbing his fingers over the tender petals, "You were scared. I know because you gasped, you don't ever gasp unless you are scared."

She side-eyed the vamp, who shrugged his shoulders like to say don't be mad at him for being right. And he was right, he did frighten her, but not because she wasn't primed to annihilate a vampire, it was because she hadn't seen him in two weeks and her heart leapt at him being close.

She turned to the vampire with folded arms and changed the subject, "What are you doing here?

He brushed the flower over her exposed skin, lazily dragging it over her collarbone, "Why are you walking to your grandma's house at night, you do know how that tale ended for little red riding hood don't you?" He said with a raised eyebrow, staring into her like he knows what she looks like naked, and she didn't mean her birthday suit, but who she is when she isn't wearing her armor.

His cotton gray t-shirt did nothing to mask his defined chest and shoulders, and he smelled of cologne and bourbon, dizzying her with memories and want. She longed to run her hands through his raven hair and brush it away from his chiseled face, but she had made a decision and she was sticking to it.

When she didn't move right away, Damon closed in on her, cornering her against a tree, and brushing up against her at his will, "Cat got your tongue little bird?"

Three months.

1, 2, 3.

May, June, July - that's all it took for them to become something _**more**_ than frenemies.

"I love that fairy tale, Damon, especially the part when they hack the wolf to pieces," She smiled wide and tilted her head to the side.

And she saw the way his eyes roamed over her, and how he smiled back at her quip, and she knew she needed to get home. Fast.

It was just one kiss.

But like in the tales of her youth, one kiss transformed lives, they woke up sleeping princesses and turned frogs into princes, and it was one drunken kiss shared between her and Damon that turned her world upside down.

He narrowed his eyes, "Does Lucy know about us? "He asked like he was on to her, "I ran into her at the Grille and when she didn't greet me with asshole, I figured she might be warming up to me."

If her heart quickened anymore she was sure it would explode, "Us?" She asked, incredulous with her eyebrows flying up to her hairline, "There is no us, and there's no story." She lied, embarrassed and tucking an errant curl behind her ear. Lucy knew every detail of her and Damon. They had spent long conversations over the phone, dissecting and analyzing the happenings between her and the eldest Salvatore.

He sensually curled up his lip and let the flower drop from his fingertips to fall nicely down her shirt and between her breasts. His smiled widened, satisfied. "We definitely have a story."

"What's our story?" She snorted, she could easily transport his ass back to the boardinghouse, but that would only exacerbate his pestering.

He untucked the same curl she had just moved from her face and began to twirl it around his finger, "Well ours would go something like, Boy bites girl. Girl hates boy." He started, his eyes no longer examining her insides but focusing on her feet as if he is nervous, and she felt warm all over at him anxious recounting their interaction, "Boy tries to befriend Girl," He stated with impact and pressing a finger into her shoulder and continued, "Girl helps boy kill baddies. Boy turns girl's mother into vampire," He said, protruding his bottom lip, attempting at a sad face, which made her stomp off from him, "Girl tells Boy he can kick rocks," He loudly said to her back, as she made a hand gesture for him to fuck off. "Boy suggests to girl they need a fresh start. Girl collapses into a coma from a spell." He caught her arm and pulled her to him, bending down to make her look at him, "Boy saves Girl with his blood. Girl develops a bond with Boy. Boy likes it. Girl likes it. Girl freaks out over liking it and tells Boy they need some time apart. Did I get it right?"

"We both decided on the break." She pointed out.

"A break from what, we haven't even started Bennett," he said, affecting his face like she was the live-wire, "And for the record, you were the one who decided on the break, but the beauty of me, little bird, is that I could care less about what you want," He practically snarled at her with his last sentence, he began to pace around her.

She turned slowly in the circle he paced in, "So what I want doesn't matter to you?" She asked with her hands pressed against her chest,

"Not when it comes to this," he said, his eyes taking on their maniacal twitch. He halted his circling of her and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, blew air out he didn't breathe and said matter-of-factly, "Bonnie, you told me I was your best friend, if that's true then act like it, don't ignore me for two weeks and behave like it's a pain to be near me."

He was hurt.

And she wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around his neck and comfort him with words she wasn't supposed to feel, not for him, not for his kind.

Her shoulders sagged, but she remained resolved, "I need some time, Damon, to straighten everything out and determine what is real, don't you want to know if that story you just told is real and not something…"

"Magical?" He taunted.

Her jaw tightened at his dig, "Fabricated," She said as she commenced her walk home without him.

"Elena's back."

Hearing him say her name like that made her stomach flip, like it was a threat, his trump card. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, "I know, Caroline told me," She said, feeling nauseous at the thought of Elena under the same roof with him, but that was something she was just going to have to deal with and come to accept.

"How's everything with her there?" She asked him, expecting him to immediately revert to the old Damon, the Damon completely obsessed with her friend.

He talked to the vast space between them and nodded, "She's fine," He confirmed with his fists in his pockets, "You should come see her."

"I will soon," She said, wondering why everyone was so adamant about her taking the first step with Elena. "Look Damon, I gotta get home," She started, "Goodnight," She grimaced a crooked smile at him.

"Goodnight, Bennett," She heard him say right before he disappeared.


	3. There, There

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Her running into Damon had the witches in an uproar of gossip. It seemed they each had something to say to Bonnie about her vampire friend.

"_That boy still doesn't have a clue."_

"_Aww, I think he might actually love her."_

"_He don't love her, vampires never love witches, they only act like they do when they want something."_

"_That's not true, do you remember Lugosi had a thing for Elva."_

"_I thought we said we weren't gonna talk about Elva no more? She's not even here 'cause of him_."

Bonnie shook her head, trying to concentrate on what Sheila had to say, but her Grams didn't have anything more to add when it came to Damon other than warning her granddaughter to be careful.

She whispered to thin air, "That's all you have to say?" She asked, waiting for Sheila to reply but it was Elena Gilbert who was sitting on her Grams old rocker on her front porch who answered her.

"Bonnie?"

The voices ceased as Bonnie's heart picked up at the sight of her best friend descending the porch stairs of her home. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ears nervously and smiled at Bonnie, "I went by your Dad's and he said you were living here now."

Bonnie's pony-tail swung as she looked around her and passed the vampire, expecting to see Stefan, "What are you doing here?"

Elena's smile quickly faded and she answered Bonnie's shortness with a hasty explanation, "We got in yesterday, I didn't think you'd come to the boardinghouse to see me and I didn't want the ball to be the first time we saw each other since..." Elena trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself.

Bonnie measured the reason out of the doppelganger's mouth that she had known from the age of four and bypassed her to quick-step up the stairs and unlock the front door, "Well, you've seen me, what else do you want?"

Elena's turned around to Bonnie and her eyes widened as she threw up her hands, "I don't want anything, I.. I missed you over the months, Bonnie, I thought we could talk."

Bonnie guffawed, the curt laugh that escaped from Bonnie made the vampire take a step backwards, "Even wanting to talk is wanting something from me, Elena," She said and jerked her head toward the door, giving Elena permission to climb up the stairs and enter the house.

The brunette wrapped her hands around herself and dawdled for a moment as if she was thinking she had made a mistake coming to see her former best friend, but she pursed her lips together and zipped to the porch and stopped short of the threshold while Bonnie stared at her from the other side of the open door.

She needed for Bonnie to say the words for her to enter. Her doe-eyes pleaded with Bonnie," Please?" She whispered with her head slightly bowed.

Bonnie turned on her heels to walk away from the door and said without affection, "Elena, come in." And she immediately left the vampire in the foyer for the kitchen, so she could put on a pot of tea, and rummage through the cabinets for a bottle of bourbon that she was sure that Damon had left in the house while he had helped her renovate her Grams house into her own.

Elena skulked into the kitchen while Bonnie ignored her, going from counter to cabinet, preparing the tea. She stood helplessly in the breakfast nook area before taking a seat at the old wooden table, searching for something to say to Bonnie, "Its surreal, I remember so many mornings after a sleep over at this table, "Elena said, running her hand over the wood, "And when we were older, after my mom died, Sheila always ready to listen to me."

Bonnie slammed the utensil drawer shut with her hip, the silverware crashing inside the drawer startling Elena from reminiscing, "Do you want bourbon in your tea?"

"Yes."

Elena continued to comment on the house while Bonnie poured more alcohol than tea into their mugs, "You've really made the place yours, it feels like you now, when did you move in?" Elena weakly smiled, taking the steaming hot mug from Bonnie's hands.

Bonnie warned Elena the drink was hot and to let it cool. She didn't sit down with the vamp, instead she busied herself with the few dirty dishes in the sink, and thought about how weird it was to not have anything to say to someone she loved, and she finally answered the vampire, "The day we buried Jeremy."

She could feel Elena's eyes on her as she washed a saucer and she knew the vampire wanted her to sit next to her but she couldn't. She was still very angry. And over the months Elena had been in Toronto with Stefan she had had time to think about what she would tell her when she saw her again, the speech had changed over time, morphing from her casting a mute spell on her while she listed off all the hurtful shit Elena had done to her, or her returning every iota that reminded her of their friendship with a heartfelt letter of goodbye, and then finally owning her part in the downfall of their friendship, owning how she allowed herself to be treated as a doormat and that all the blame couldn't be placed on Elena.

But at that moment she had absolutely nothing to say to her.

Elena held the mug with both hands as if it had some hidden strength in the ceramic that was giving her courage, "I'm sorry Bonnie, I wasn't myself, I… " she faltered.

"Save it, Elena." She said brusquely, flinging her hands from the soapy dish waster, surprising the vampire. Bonnie sighed, counted to ten before speaking and carefully said, "You acted out because you were disappointed that I didn't save the day, like I always had for you."

Elena pushed herself away from the table and her hair swung from her shaking her head ,"But I didn't mean all those things I said to you Bonnie, I was upset, and you're right, I was betting on you when you said you could bring him back and when you couldn't I snapped."

Bonnie pressed her lips hard together, remembering Elena's words to her after the funeral at the Gilbert residence, screaming at her why her magic didn't work to bring Jeremy back to life.

Bonnie wiped her hands on a dishtowel and briskly walked past the vamp, "Follow me," she told the girl and strode into the living room which was instantaneously illuminated by a hundred candles that were lit simply by Bonnie's presence in the room.

The warm glow touched both girls faces, showing off the amazement on Elena's face and the hard line of resentment etched in Bonnie's forehead.

Bonnie pointed to the cherry-wood chest –of-drawers in the corner of the living room, the top of the dresser was covered in an old bed sheet, faded blue cotton, and different sized votive candles burning, along with two framed pictures of Jeremy, one of him as a child on a big wheel he got one Christmas and one of him with his hands wrapped around Bonnie in the Gilbert front lawn right before he was killed. There was loose-leaf sketches of his drawings stacked upon one another, the one on the very top of the stack was one of Bonnie asleep with her hands tucked under her face. There were folded love letters from him that she had placed under the votives and wax had dripped onto them and sealed them from ever being open again without destroying the penned words. But bonnie had every line memorized. And there was also his silver hunter's ring, the Gilbert heirloom was in the center of all those collected items as if it was an energy source to give the random tokens life.

Elena stumbled forward, disbelieving what she saw, closing in on the altar and looking back at Bonnie, "What is this?"

Bonnie folded her arms and squinted at the smoke collecting over the altar, "I honor the dead," She started, observing how the smoke billowed into a human form momentarily and dissipated, "And in doing so, Jeremy speaks to me."

A small sound escaped from the brunette and her eyes watered, "Wait.. what? What does he tell you?" She whispered.

Bonnie's demeanor softened at the display of Elena's pain, even though she didn't want to. She thought how could it be that two girls who grew up in the same neighborhood, a block apart, that shared everything: toys, secrets, fears, hope and love could end up like this? She unfolded her arms and walked over to the altar and ran her hand lovingly over the edge of the wood listening for Jeremy.

"Um, " Bonnie cleared her throat, " He tells me a lot of things, right now he wants me to," She started but had to stop because Elena was gripping her arm, cutting off the circulation from her anticipation of her dead brother's words.

"He.. he's here?" Elena asked, fresh tears falling and Bonnie silently responded with a nod.

And Elena swiftly looked around the room as if she could see her brother and she began to tremble, "Does he know I'm here?"

"Yes."

Then Elena let go of Bonnie and steadied herself against the altar, concentrating on the keepsakes of her brother, and she whispered, "I miss you so much, Jer." Her voice broke over his name and Bonnie had to look away.

And a soft voice murmured to Bonnie and she sighed, and said to Elena who gazed at the altar like a devout Catholic gazes onto Jesus, "He wants me to tell you he misses you too and that he loves you very much."

Crying outright, Elena broke down and grabbed the picture of him as a kid and held it in her arms like she was hugging him, "I'm sorry Jer, it was all my fault, you should have never been on that island."

Bonnie slumped against the couch; trapped in the moment she witnessed his death, "He knows you're sorry, and he wants me to tell you that you need to stop holding yourself responsible for his death, he wants you to let it go. He wants that for you," She relayed Jeremy's words because he wanted to ease his sister's heartbreak, but she stopped short of the rest of his request and Elena could tell by her facial expression that Bonnie was holding something back by the way she bit the corner of her mouth.

"What else is he saying Bonnie?" Elena asked frantically with eyes big as saucers.

Bonnie stared at Elena, and said smoothly, "He says that he's sad, he's sad that you and I aren't close anymore," Bonnie says, determined to not indicate how she felt about her former lover's request.

Elena sniffled and nodded in agreement with her dead brother, "I'm sad too, I feel as if I lost two family members when Jer died, my brother and my sister," She said, pleading for Bonnie to show some emotion other than indifference.

Bonnie contemplated the flickering candles, awaiting the smoke to take shape, and without looking at the vampire, she said, "I'm sorry for your losses Elena."

Elena nodded, her hair shrouding her face and hugged the picture frame tighter, "I heard you killed Silas".

"With Damon's help." Bonnie responded, while pulling at a loose thread on the old couch, "We tracked down Katherine too, but she had already bartered the cure for her freedom from Klaus."

"Stefan told me," Elena wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands, "Thank you, " she said, waiting for a you're welcome that wasn't going to come.

"I didn't do it for you," Bonnie grimaced a smile at the doppelganger, and folded her arms and motioned her head to the altar, "I killed Silas for Jeremy, I went after Katherine for the cure for Jeremy, so all that he sacrificed wouldn't have been in vain.

It was the first time Bonnie had shown any bitterness for what she had always done in protecting the dooppelganger and Elena was taken aback and said, "Thank you anyway, for everything."

Bonnie shrugged.

"I would like us to try to be friends again. I know you aren't okay with vamps these days, Damon told me," She started and Bonnie glowered at her and Elena wondered if she was upset at her request for friendship or that she had talked to Damon but she continued, "But I'm stuck like this Bonnie without the cure. I know you probably think that I.. "

Bonnie snorted interrupting Elena's appeal for her friendship, "I don't think about you, Elena, and I definitely don't lose sleep over our so-called friendship that had died long before your brother did, and you're wrong, you aren't stuck like that," She said to Elena who affected her face like Bonnie had struck her, "I love your brother, and he wants to see you cured, and I made a promise to him that I would do that for him. He seems to think you are better as a human, even though I don't see a difference." Bonnie said icily.

Elena choked back a small sound and placed the picture frame back onto the altar, no longer feeling like she was in the presence of a wounded friend but with an enemy, "I thought you said you didn't get the cure from Katherine?"

"That's right, I didn't, "Bonnie nodded, and with a flick of her wrist the front door opened, informing Elena that it was time for her to leave, "But a promise is a promise."

Author's Note

I wish Elena was a better friend. I thought at the beginning of the series there was real potential to show a real friendship between these two girls but it seems they were only interested in making both girls lame props. End of rant. I hope you guys liked it and let me know what you wanna read next.


	4. My Way

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"_You should have picked up some Florida water."_

Bonnie was barefoot, standing in the narrow bathroom, connected to the master bedroom, which despite the remodeling of the rest of the house, looked exactly the way it had when she was growing up. The square tiles were peach and badly needing re-caulking, and the linoleum floor which was at some point in time, white, was now faded yellow, no matter how many times Bonnie scrubbed the floor. The wallpaper, which was a repeated pattern of bathing swans, was crinkled at the ceiling from years of moisture, and in some places was stripped off the wall from a four year old Bonnie who couldn't resist the buckling pieces.

After tackling the living room, kitchen and master bedroom, Bonnie had every intention to overhaul the rest of her grandmother's house into the current decade. But, she didn't have the heart to touch the bathroom where she had childhood memories of Sheila giving her a nightly bath. Her Grams would sit on the closed toilet seat to tell her stories, all kinds of stories, while she played with her Barbie dolls and pretended to swim.

Bonnie swiped at her sweaty brow. There was no air ventilation in the bathroom and the nighttime summer breeze coming through her open bedroom windows was not making its way to her.

"No one uses Florida water anymore, Grams. And I saved this water from the rainfall from earlier today while the sun was still out," She said, toeing the pink plastic bucket at her feet and causing it to knock over.

"Shit!" Bonnie said through clenched teeth, quickly titling the bucket upright before she lost all of her collected water, and tugged at her bath towel hanging over the shower curtain rail to soak up the puddle.

"_Stop thinking about the fight." _

"I'm not thinking about Elena, "She said for the second time that evening, sticking her pointer finger into the shallow water to determine if she had enough left for her spell.

"_I'm not talking about her, I'm talking 'bout Damon; you all wound up thinking about him that you aren't focusing. _

Bonnie braced herself against the pedestal sink, her hands gripping the rounded edges, and her pelvis flush against the cool ceramic.

Her grandmother knew her so well.

"I'm trying not to," She said softly and twisted the cold-water knob, cupping her hands under the faucet. "It's just, you know she's over there right now, telling them what happened over here, and about the cure, and Damon's gonna flip and torture me for not telling him, and then when I _**do**_ tell him…" Her face met the pooled water in her palms before the first tear appeared.

"_Bonnie, now's not the time, you gotta suck it up baby girl and think about all that later, right now you need to focus, you hear me? Have you blessed the rope? _

Even though her grandmother never materialized; her stern voice was clear as if she was hovering right over her shoulder in the stifling bathroom, annoying the hell out of her with her refusal to give her any guidance on her feelings for Damon, and for her insistent questioning about her magical preparation.

Bonnie glared at her reflection in the speckled mirrored cabinet over the sink, her head cocked to the side, and when she blinked she saw Sheila's face flash in place of her own, and she said pointedly, "He loves me, Grams."

Silence.

She blew out air through her lips dramatically, feeling like she was four again, "Would loving him back be so horrible?"

_"Don't forget to bless the rope before you drench it, chile." _

Two fights were had that day; she didn't want to have another, especially with her Grams, so she bit back her desire to question her why it was required for her to never love a vampire. "Can you let me do this?"

"_Okay, I'ma let you do it. I'll be here when you need me." _Sheila said, and Bonnie pictured her throwing up her hands, showing how done she was with her granddaughter.

Bonnie's voice rose and she spoke to the light fixture above her, "Every witch has her own way of doing the craft, you told me that."

"_You got it all figured out, Bonnie."_

Bonnie picked up the beige rope from the floor, shaking it out, the middle hung low, dangling over her toes, while she held each end in her hands and closed her eyes.

She prayed.

Shifted herself into a place beyond space and time.

And while she meditated in her flimsy cotton nightgown, in her grandma's bathroom, holding a rope and asking its very fiber to please take hold of the energy of the next night's full moon, she broke mid-prayer and whispered to Sheila, "This can work for you too."

The breeze finally reached the bathroom, blowing the sweat cold on the back of Bonnie's neck while she saturated the rope in her hands into the rainwater in the bucket.

"_I know, sweetie. We all know." _Sheila said, speaking for the other ancestors who rested in silence, letting the granddaughter and grandmother have their special time_, "And we discussed it, and we think it's best if we stay on this side. You are the first witch in a long, long time who could ever be able to do such a thing, but I think I need to stay over here for you, you need all the allies you can get on the other side."_

"Jeremy pretty much said the same thing," She said as she pushed in at the painted corner of wood cased around the mirror and it popped open. Her fingers skimmed over the toiletries until she found the box of razor blades and pulled out a single shiny blade and placed it gently on the sink. "When you say _**we**_, are you including Quetsiyah?" She asked. She hadn't heard from that_** particular**_ ancestor since she and Damon confronted Silas.

"_She hasn't talked to us since New Orleans, but rest assured, she will make it known."_ Sheila warned sassily.

And the breeze came again, and Bonnie was grateful knowing it was not a breeze at all, but Sheila reaching out to her.

"_You calling me old-school, you and that razor blade, you could just dye the damn thing, Bonnie." _

Bonnie smiled and in one graceful swoop, sliced the blade across the fleshy part of her palm, balling her fist, dripping blood into the water bucket. Her blood swirled and she was excited to see the jute tint to red, and she unclenched her bloody hand and said, "You have your way, and I have mine."

Author's Note

This was a short chapter and there will probably be one more shorty before I post a longer one. But the good thing is the longer one will be Bamon and when they are at the Ball Oh and to the lovely reviewers, thank you, thank you thank you for taking the time to leave a review.


	5. Bound

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, she waited for her phone to ring while trying to suppress that weightless feeling she had in her stomach, that sudden drop from a plummeting rollercoaster feeling.

Reaching for her phone at her nightstand, she swiped a finger over the touch-screen, unlocking the messages, and confirmed there were none.

She wanted to throw up.

It was a self-inflicted queasiness because she had foolishly worried about Damon going pyscho once he heard from Elena that she had knowledge of another cure and had kept it from him, and she foolishly thought he would be upset and concerned, she even voiced these fears to her Grandmother who wisely guided her earlier to keep her thoughts on the task at hand.

And here, hours after Elena had left, there were no calls.

No beating down her door.

Not even a text.

Bonnie tossed violently on to her side, kicking the covers off her legs, thinking Elena had him; he just didn't care. Elena was back; and in his home, and possibly in his bed, and he realized who he couldn't be without was Elena Gilbert.

She rolled over onto her back, splaying her hands wide, extending them like a criminal hung on a cross.

And Doubt collected out of the shadows from the four corners in her room and laid down beside her.

"**He loves too easily."**

"I was a distraction. It was Elena then, and its Elena now, it's always been Elena."

"**You were also very lonely; you were grieving."**

"I was lonely."

"**What you are feeling could be chemical; don't forget all the blood."**

Bonnie's eyes instantly shut, eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks, and her fingertips glided over the curve of her neck from the memories of the blood sharing with Damon. How he would offer his punctured wrist, his blood tasting sweeter than her own, and how his canines would penetrate the thin layer of skin at the side of her neck, like knives slicing into butter, causing an undulating throb between her legs. With his fangs embedded in her veins and his strong arm wrapped possessively around her hip, pressing her body flush against him, her blood would rush to his greedy mouth and warm her face. And after a climax of heartbeats, she would wriggle under his embrace from the exquisite pain becoming unbearable, and the small of her back would inadvertently rub him, making him moan and suck harder, making her light-headed. Her heart would then explode with panic that he would drink too much, but as soon as the tiny bumps of fear broke out over her skin, he would retract his fangs, lick up any residual blood, and kiss her chastely on the pair of the tiny wounds.

Their first and only kiss had been the last time they had such an exchange.

Near swooning from the loss of blood and the tidal wave of alcohol she had consumed with him; her nerves were raw and tuned to his fingertips roving, shoulder to hip, dented into her flesh, anticipating the innocent kiss to follow, alerting her to replenish with his blood, but her body sighed onto his, and his hands slid down to the back of her thighs, and hitched her up to where her legs were wrapped around his waist. Her back was slammed against a wall and his mouth covered hers. He kissed her as if he had been starved; devouring her lips, he took her breath away.

And as her brain consented, she would let him do what he desired to do to her, he had pulled away. With his head bent and ducked to her heaving chest, he kissed her lightly on the shoulder blade and asked, "What is it that you want Bonnie?"

Thinking of that last time, Bonnie's hands roamed over her stomach, inching their way over her thighs when she noticed the peek of light under the gap of her bedroom door.

She yanked the pillow from under her head and smothered her face into the cotton. Her ancestors usually let her be at peace at night, where she could regain some semblance of a normal life, exploring and analyzing her own musings and emotions without the many relatives putting in their two cents.

But it seemed there was one spirit that wanted to talk.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

The door at the end of the hall, directly opposite from her own, used to be her mother's bedroom for the eighteen years she had lived with Sheila, and then it became Sheila's workroom, where she studied her grimoire, practiced the craft and concocted spells.

Mumbling a warding-off incantation in reverse, she dialed the numbers on the key pad, and opened the door.

She kept the room under lock and key from intruders, human or supernatural.

It was still a magical rec-room, walls lined with ancient textbooks, grimories and mystical diagrams, a huge living altar to her Grams displayed items that had belonged to Sheila, like her colored perfume bottles, and scraps of her wedding dress, and things she had had loved that Bonnie had to regularly replace, such as periwinkle hydrangeas and coke from the bottle.

These were all sacred to Bonnie, but they were harmless in the wrong hands, and did not warrant protection.

Squinting, Bonnie eyes had to adjust to the barrage of light; every candle and lamp was lit.

Bonnie could sense her in the room. The surge of restless energy. She walked to the work table along the back wall, lit the incense, and rang the brass bell three times.

"You wanted to speak with me?" She asked, folding her arms.

"_Who will you bless?"_ the warped voice bellowed. Quetsiyah no longer possessed the human voice she had died with like the other witches.

Bonnie closed her eyes, picturing the faces of the blessed and spoke their names, "I bless Abby Bennett, Caroline Forbes and…. Elena Gilbert."

"_Not your lover?"_

Tapping on the heavy glass tank, awakening the sleeping python, the reason for the spells and locks, Bonnie scrunched her brow at Quetsiyah's use of lover.

"He doesn't want to be human." She said, recalling Damon consistently voicing how he couldn't think of anything more miserable than being a human.

"_Neither does the doppelganger; they have spoken to one another; she will stay vampire."_

"How do you know this?"

"_I see everything."_

"Well then, my blessing extends to my mother and my best friend," She said, slapping her hands on her legs, feeling slightly defeated, and chastising herself for feeling anything other than happiness over what she was going to give to the people she loved.

"_The new moon will serve you well, bind the power of the full moon and tether the dead to you on the new, and call unto the one with no name, and they will be dead no more."_

Bonnie grimaced a smile at the simplicity of the spell.

It was the cure for vampirism.

Reaching her hand into the tank, the black and brown speckled snake hissed and leapt its thick flat head around her wrist, slithering up her arm. Its cold leathery hide rubbed over Bonnie's supple skin, and traveled under her hair; its mouth circling dangerously close to her neck.

"And my familiar?" Bonnie whispered to her ancient ancestor, the burning question her other descendants bothered her with every day. They were wary of Bonnie being the caretaker of such a volatile and powerful spirit.

"_I have made my decision; the spell must not free it. On its belly it will stay, under the heels of man."_

"Vengeance harms you as much as it does as the one who's offended you." She contested gently, trying to convince Quetsiyah to let her free the spirit trapped in the snake.

"_Have you not benefitted from your familiar?"_

Bonnie angled her head, confronting the eyes of the snake, "Yes; but the spirit is connected to me; I feel everything. The spirit does not belong on Earth. It has repentantly served me, and it is my desire for it to die."

"_Weak hearts are always deceived."_

The rain started again - despite its usual break during moonlight - pattering on the roof, and the snake descended slowly down her other arm, slinking back into its tank, and her ancestor spoke to her soul for the final time that night, "_The doppelganger wants to stay vampire for your lover. She is enamored with him. He is confused." _She informed.

Bonnie caressed the length of the snake before answering her back, "Then I hope they are happy with their choices," She lied, wishing she could believe what she had said.

Her ancestor responded after the snake had completely parted from Bonnie.

"_Will you rejoice if they are to unite?__  
_

Author's Note

Nkhen, thank you for reviewing this piece and all my other work on here. Thank you to all the reviewers to this story and all the follows and favorites. Getting recognition for your work for a fan-fic writer is worth more than getting paid.

Okay, one of the reviewers said they were confused about the last chapter, wondering if she were resurrecting Jeremy or her Grams, I hope this chapter cleared that up.

Now I'm off to write the next chapter.


	6. Over the Love

Bonnie was out the front door before she had a moment to think what the hell was she doing, before an ancestor yelled at her stop, before she convinced herself to do the responsible thing.

Quetsiyah had detonated a bomb.

What would she do -if not rejoice - if her two friends chose to be together?

The already saturated ground had turned to mud under the fresh rain, and Bonnie ran swiftly on the bare balls of her feet, her stride sure as her feet picked up wet leaves and snapped twigs. Big, fat raindrops pelted her shoulders soaked her thin white nightgown and drenched her hair; the rain blurred her vision, and she had no clear path, but she knew where she was running.

He had told her once that all the bullshit people say about love at first sight was true. He knew it because it had happened to him when he first laid eyes on Katherine. He admitted it wasn't a wise choice, but that's what sucked about love, he said, you don't get to choose who you fall in love with. He told her all of this when they both were holed up in a sparse rented room overlooking the French Quarter, after weeks of tracking down Katherine over several southern states, for them to locate the vampire in New Orleans so Bonnie could kill her.

Bonnie wanted Katherine's head. For her Grams. For Caroline. For Jeremy. And though she wouldn't admit at the time, for Elena. And Damon had helped her find her, he even spotted her first, pointed her out so Bonnie could have what she thought she needed. Bonnie seethed with magic, pooling energy in her fingers. She had a clear target of the vampire, who was trying to disguise her presence among the rowdy Bourbon crowd, and who had also unfortunately glanced up at her killer in the window and froze, and Bonnie turned away from the window, lying to Damon that she couldn't use her magic on Katherine without harming innocent people.

They would have to let her make it this time.

She replayed this as she slogged through the mud up to her ankles, and she still believed as she did then, that love at first sight didn't exist, but she understood Damon did believe, and although he had helped her seek out his ex-girlfriend to avenge the harm she had caused in all of their lives, Bonnie let Katherine go free, because she knew Katherine's death would hurt him in ways he hadn't imagined.

And she didn't do it because of the first time she saw him he had sexily smirked at her, or that when whatever Scooby plan involved her taking one for the team, he was always the one who devised a plan to save her skin; and she didn't do it because of the numerous months working closely together, practically living with one another, to the point of where she knew the faces he wore when no one was around and how under that hard and sometimes cruel exterior he was actually ravenous for affection , and she didn't do it because she could say she knew the real Damon Salvatore and he was her friend.

She did it because he was right when he said you didn't get to choose who you loved.

The sky was watercolors of purple and pink, the dream-like time before sunrise, and as she approached the boardinghouse it grew bigger, wider, as she ran over the gravel, the small rocks piercing into the underside of her feet.

She had ran the miles to him through the woods, panting and soggy as she crushed the ground, connecting to the earth.

The need for him brought her there.

Bonnie opened the boardinghouse door that was never locked and quickly climbed the stairs, leaving muddy footprints on the red carpet. Her pulse echoed in her throat. The vampires heard it, waking up in their beds; their fangs drawing out over the delicious sound, and as she jogged down the hall to his room, past Stefan's room, Elena struggled in Stefan's arms, worried that something had happened to Bonnie, and he mouthed to her to let Bonnie be.

She creaked his door open, expecting to be heartbroken, but he was alone in his bed, the white sheets and white duvet - implying a purity that didn't belong in his room - were rolled back, and he was shirtless, looking as if carved from marble, his head fallen to the side, and a hand flung by his brow.

Unbeknownst to her, she reeked. And her scent aroused him, as it would any vampire. She smelled of salt, and fresh earth, and magic, so much magic that it choked any other scent lingering in the room.

He made no movements to look at her directly, but he spoke, his voice clear as if he had never been asleep, "I was expecting you."

"You know?"

"She told me."

She padded her dirty feet over the polished hardwood floors to the foot of his immaculate bed and said, "That's why I'm here," She stated, disclosing a portion of the reason why she was in his bedroom, uninvited at four thirty in the morning. She left out the part of her ancestors pushing her buttons about him, and she didn't acknowledge that his blood had memory of him, and the drops he shared, coursing through her veins, were always trying to be near the source.

He was illumined by the moonlight; the vaporous light bounced off an elbow, his chin, the muscles of his stomach, it created shadows; made his lips a silhouette and his eyes completely disappear.

But she could see perfectly, the defined slope of his cheekbones, and how they rose from his signature smirk, "Jealousy brought you here, Bennett. You weren't going to tell me that you know how to cure vamps. You only want to clear it up now because you're busted. Elena told me everything. And you aren't here because you feel bad about lying to me; I know you, remember, even though feeling guilty is a hobby of yours, Judgy, that's not why you're here. You're here because Elena is down the hall," He finished, his straight, white and _deadly_ teeth gleaming from the hint of moonlight.

Her knee sunk in to the down-feather bed and she crawled over the duvet, sliding up the span of his hard body, to straddle her damp knees on the sides of his waist, making him finally open his eyes and lazily attempt to sit upright, and her thoroughly enjoying his smug face crumble into alarm.

She was something to look at.

Her hair was sodden, clinging to her shoulders, and her wet nightgown was a second skin, see-thru and wrinkled, it cleaved to her curves, and her cat-green eyes were brilliant and glowing in the shadowy darkness of his room.

He gripped her shoulders, his fingers marking her, "What the hell is wrong with you, Bonnie," He said, incredulous and shaking her, "You went through the woods?"

High on adrenaline and longing, she shut him up by brushing her lips over his, startling him for a moment, like he hadn't expected to get what he always wanted, but he rebounded, and responded fervently, palming the back of her head, catching her bottom lip between his teeth, and flipping her from being on top to being crushed underneath him.

Scraping his teeth over the stretch of her neck, blood beaded, and he lasciviously lapped up the fluid as she winced and moaned, opening her legs for him to grind into her.

She rolled her hips upward, running her hands into his hair, pressing the back of his skull, encouraging his open mouth.

"Please," She sighed, his weight heavy, flattening her breast and making her breaths shallow.

And he bit her.

Hard.

Squeezing her thighs and eyelids from the initial pain, she relaxed into the pull and the sound of him suckling her, and he slipped a hand between them, to the slick folds of her center, and he slid two fingers inside of her and used his thumb to circle her heightened nub, making her body reply in ways she had never known before, and he sucked harder, taking more than he ever had before and stroked her until that tight, coiled pit of desire in her, built into a crescendo, and crashed into waves upon waves of pleasure.

Her nails found purchase on his back, his muscles constricting as he growled, unclasping his fangs from her neck to smear her mouth with his kisses from his bloody own. And she felt brave and reached for him, his cock long and dense in her small hand.

And he wrapped his hand over hers, stopping her and said, "You're not ready yet Bonnie,"

"I'm ready, I want you to," She gasped, disbelieving he was turning her down.

He savagely held her face in his hands, his hands stretching the skin of her face downward, and he looked her in the eyes, examined her, and furrowed his brow like he might have been wrong from his assessment, and he asked, "Do you love me?" He asked sternly, like he was interrogating someone who had wronged him.

"Yes," she said with conviction and his strong hands released the vice-like grip on her head.

"Then don't ever lie to me again." He whispered, blowing out a breath that he didn't need to hold and nuzzling his nose over his bite and she lightly fingered her scratch marks on his back thinking of the other secrets she was keeping from him.

How even though she loved him; she could never be with him.

How when he she had collapsed into a coma from fighting Silas; it wasn't his blood that had saved her.

She never needed saving.

And how he thought they had killed Silas together; turning his body into stone and casting him to the depths of the quarry, but actually, the spirit of the immortal wasn't in the rubble of rock, buried under water, he was currently thriving, bound to Bonnie, and living in the guise of a pet snake in her home.

She lifted her head up from the pillow and kissed him, and mouthed an 'I love you,' stretching her body to leave the bed, only to have him jerk her back to position and grin down at her before he said, "I'm not done with you yet."

Author's Note

I suck at sex/romance scenes, and I bow down to the Queens of Bamon who do it oh so well. But I know the only way I'm going to get better is thru practice. So I'm sorry if ya'll had to cringe through that but take note that you will probably be cringing through more of me dancing around using the word cock some more

Okay, so this chapter should have cleared up who is in the snake. One reviewer asked a lot of questions ( I LOVE QUESTIONS!) And I hope this chapter addressed some of them, but to answer some of them out right, no there isn't another story to read, and I will give some backstory on how Bonnie and Damon became more enemies through the story and dialogue and some of it will be left to ya'lls beautiful and active imaginations.

The next chapter should bring us to the ball.

Okay, I gotta switch gears now and write a short for Klonnie week.

Thanks for reading!


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